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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23220337">The Angel and the African Dream Root</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Squeevening/pseuds/Squeevening'>Squeevening</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Supernatural</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Bottom Castiel/Top Dean Winchester, First Time, M/M, Quarantine, Recreational Drug Use, Wing Kink, slight non-con</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-03-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-03-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 11:07:34</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Rape/Non-Con</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>7,280</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23220337</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Squeevening/pseuds/Squeevening</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>This used to be titled "Heaven In Your Eyes," when I could not resist being overcome by a wave of eighties cheese, but I'm over it and have returned to my original title. :-D</p><p>Team Free Will find themselves quarantined in the bunker, and out of sheer boredom, the Angel samples the African dream root.  Dean finds himself unwittingly observing and then eagerly participating in Castiel's fantasies, exploring feelings he's never dared look at directly. Emotions run high when Dean's discovery forces him to make a confession.</p><p>This summary is vague on purpose; this thing is *fantastic*, guys, but I don't want to spoil you.<br/>The non-con is very slight, because Dean did not have permission to join Castiel in his private fantasies, and a forceful kiss.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Castiel/Dean Winchester</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>158</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>The Angel and the African Dream Root</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This work is dedicated to Paul, who never thought I'd want to hear what he had to say. I'm glad to report he has never been more wrong in his life. You give me life, Paul. For the love of chuck, *please*, never stop resonating. &lt;3 :-D</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The third night of the quarantine was the first time it happened. Dean woke himself up choking on sulphur fumes, his sheets soaking wet, afterimages of bright white light still floating on his retinas, and he lay on his back, panting, eyes wide open, only to see it all again on the ceiling just as vividly as before.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Flames, everywhere flames, he’d never felt anything so hot, burning him alive but he kept moving forward, there was shouting all around him but he could hear it in his head, too, some of the voices winking out, horror and grief but he locked those feeling away there was only this mission, he must succeed, and then he must be having an out-of-body experience, because Dean’s own face was floating in front of him, but glowing from inside, white light, gorgeous and shimmering like an opal, and he was reaching for his own shoulder, his hand glowing red from the flames he’d walked through, searing a handprint into the flesh of his shoulder as his face screamed at him, familiar yet brand new at the same time, the white light inside it weakening, flickering in red flames now, too, with what he understood instinctually was agony. He could feel regret as he gripped his shoulder tighter and pulled, his body a dead weight below him, both feather light and completely immovable at the same time, and he spread his wings in flight, the flames pure agony as he poured his grace into his singed feathers, bearing himself and his burden aloft, rising through the - </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Flames, everywhere flames, he’d never felt anything so hot, burning him alive  -</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dean couldn’t help it, the terror of the waking dream gripping him, the scream rising from low in his throat, and it wasn’t until his door burst open, Sam’s sleepy face above him, shaking him awake without realizing his eyes were already open, that the loop broke off, the images on the ceiling just... blinking out, his room just regular darkness again.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dean blinked away the embarrassing sting of relief, staring up at his brother’s sleepy face, smiling down at him in gentle concern.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You were having a nightmare,” Sam murmured, his voice soothing, and Dean nodded silently, blowing out a breath, eyes wide. Sam patted his shoulder and turned to go, yawning.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dean felt a powerful sense of deja vu wash over him, rippling chills over his soaking body in its wake, and he wondered, suddenly, how many times Sam had done this for him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Sam, wait - I - I think I just saw one of Cas’s memories as a - a dream,” Dean whispered, too dangerous a thing to say out loud.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Sam was suddenly wide awake and paying full attention, plopping down on the bed beside Dean to confer, and Dean smirked softly to realize </span>
  <em>
    <span>this</span>
  </em>
  <span> part was brand new. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Oh my god, that happened to me last night! </span>
  </em>
  <span>I was Cas, filled with, like, anguish and regret, holding that giant syringe and looking down at my own body in the chair. My face was bloody and the needle was sticking out of my neck, and I knew I was killing him. Me, I guess. I pulled the syringe out and healed him. Me. Even though he - uh, I guess me? - was </span>
  <em>
    <span>so pissed</span>
  </em>
  <span> at me, I knew it was the right thing to do.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sam’s eyes were twin moons, and Dean stared up at him in horror, his face twisting in confusion.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“When was </span>
  <em>
    <span>that?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sam looked away, running a hand through his silky mane, Dean’s fingers suddenly itching to be holding a pair of clippers.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That spell that didn’t work out. Trying to find Gadreel with the grace he left... in me. I told you. Remember, you were off looking for the first blade with Crowley?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I don’t remember you telling me he was </span>
  <em>
    <span>killing </span>
  </em>
  <span>you - “</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I made him, Dean. Until he refused -”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Is everything alright in here?”  Castiel’s voice was soft, lilting and dreamy, his eyes glowing by some trick of the light when he stepped into Dean’s doorway, and Sam and Dean both fell silent without needing to so much as glance at one another first.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“All good,” Dean managed, taking point by tacit agreement. “I had a nightmare, and Sam came to check on me. I’m fine now.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ah,” Castiel said, nodding solemnly. “I remember, from when I was human. Would you like some warm milk? I was told it helped, although I never tried it.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dean slowly shook his head no, but Sam leapt to his feet, his face eager.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m craving a PB&amp;J. Do we have any bread left?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dean shrugged, watching Castiel’s face go wistful, his chest aching that he couldn’t do a damn thing about it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Enough for a sandwich. Go ahead, I’ll make more tomorrow.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Are we gonna run out of flour?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Naw, Cas and I stocked up real good before we hunkered down, and this is only day three. We’re good for, like, three months on </span>
  <em>
    <span>decent </span>
  </em>
  <span>food. Six on rice and canned stuff, if it comes to that.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It won’t, will it?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sam’s voice sounded small, and Dean’s eyes met Castiel’s for a second, the set of Castiel’s jaw clenching as he understood that they were to “soften the truth,” as Dean had carefully explained to him was not technically lying, per se.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’ll be at least two weeks to be safe, Sammy. We gotta watch the news and see what happens out there, then play it by ear.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Okay,” Sam sighed, lurching to his feet. “But I’m gonna go stir-crazy.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I feel you,” Dean sighed. “I need to shower off these night sweats, then I’m gonna catch a couple more hours sleep if I can.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dean waited while Sam shuffled out the door and down the hall, but Cas was still standing in his doorway, his eyes far away.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What’s up, Cas?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Castiel startled a little, meeting Dean’s gaze again.  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I was thinking about the day I met you, Dean.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>You don’t say.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I remember,” Dean murmured. “You blew out every light in that barn, and I shot you, and then I stabbed you in the chest. Sorry about that, Cas.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Castiel nodded slowly, focusing on </span>
  <em>
    <span>this </span>
  </em>
  <span>Dean at last.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes. That was definitely our first meeting, the one I meant as well.” Castiel shook his head a little, as if to clear it. “Were you going to shower?”  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Castiel held the door open a little wider, and Dean flushed a tiny bit, shrugging up at Cas from under his sheets, still wound around his body where he’d kicked them into knots.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m gonna need to grab a robe first, Cas. I don’t sleep in my clothes </span>
  <em>
    <span>all </span>
  </em>
  <span>the time.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Oh. </span>
  </em>
  <span>I’m sorry.”  Castiel actually colored, his cheeks turning a bright shade of red as Dean stared at him, a slow smirk curving Dean’s lips as Castiel backed away sheepishly and gently shut the door, so Dean could step out of bed and grimace at the sour flop sweat stink rolling off him in waves.  Dean shrugged and reached for his dead man’s robe and his towel, sucking in a deep breath.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>One little pandemic bunker lockdown and *now* we find out Cas’s memories are contagious somehow? How has this never happened before, then?</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dean worried the idea while he took a piss, showered, while he toweled off, and as he changed his sheets, plopping back down with a sigh, his mind finally offering up a suggestion.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Wait, I had a glass of the Men of Letters *Special* Reserve bourbon tonight but Sam didn’t want any, and Sam tried a sip last night when I was in the mood for El Sol. Could it be that somehow??? I have to tell Sam. We’ll have to lay off the Men of Letters stash, maybe?</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Well, *this* oughta be interesting.</span>
  </em>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>***</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>An uneventful couple of days passed, Dean burying himself in baking, Sam, in the library, and Castiel aimlessly wandering the halls of the bunker, stopping by the library now and then to read over Sam’s shoulder until Sam glared at him, then the kitchen to see if Dean needed any help, which he did not, sitting down to family dinner confused that neither Sam nor Dean were interested in ending their day with any of their customary libations. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>On the sixth day of lockdown Dean parked Castiel in front of his laptop and netflix, and Castiel took the hint and stayed put in the chair, dutifully clicking “yes” every time the machine asked him if he was still watching, although he steadfastly was not. He hid his relief when Dean broke down his recent resolve to limit his alcohol intake and accepted a beer from Sam during dinner, waiting until Dean yawned and declared it was time to hit the hay to give up on his own solidarity teetotaling. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It would take consuming every last drop of Dean’s carefully stockpiled beer and liquor supplies to even give Castiel a buzz, and he would never do such a thing to Sam and Dean, but… He was here at Dean’s insistence, the likelihood he’d be infected or a “vector” so improbable as to be laughable, but Dean had begged, his terror palpable, and Castiel had given him his word.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>That said, there were literally hundreds of rare substances in the apothecary, and his hosts would surely never miss a little pinch of any of them, or maybe a couple pinches of his recent favorites, the </span>
  <em>
    <span>vividness </span>
  </em>
  <span>of the memories from swallowing the hexed ginseng a pleasant distraction, adding the African dream root even more transporting, but so far he’d found himself limited to reliving what had really happened, and he was bored. He remembered human dreaming being more interesting - one of the few human memories he had let himself revisit, carefully walling off his more miserable experiences in his mind -  combining memories with things that had never happened in new and interesting ways. What if he added some of those Tibetan mushrooms tonight, really tried to push the limits of his imagination?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Castiel waited until he heard snoring gently drifting down the hall, then he let his wings lift his mass until he weighed nothing - which was not flying anywhere so absolutely not breaking his word in any way - to slip out of the room they’d said was his but did not feel like his, to drift soundlessly down the hall towards the heavy door, and the jars he wanted.</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>***</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean jerked and twitched, his body stiffening in his sleep.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>He was in the beautiful room, the stack of congealed meat patties on a silver tray utterly revolting to him, but that wasn’t important, he needed this to go perfectly. He let himself become visible with a shiver of grace, his hand reaching out to cover his own mouth as he shoved himself against the wall, the feeling of staring into his own angry eyes utterly surreal as he felt a rush of emotion; fury at himself for doing this, terror at what would happen to him for his disobedience, but stronger than any of that, the desperate need to make this one human under his hands *happy*. To give him anything he wanted, this man’s need to see his brother one last time and Castiel’s burning need to be welcome by his side the only important things left, the consequences immaterial, he would bear any torture for all eternity to stand beside this righteous man now, at the end of days.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dean’s chest ached in the dream, staring at the face he’d stared at ten thousand times in the mirror, but the feelings associated with it foreign; not his own.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Those eyes, deeper than the deepest ocean and the color he’d watched it turn when the skies filled with clouds, those impossibly long lashes a human attribute he’d never cared about before now, this man’s soul a glowing opal blazing from their depths, the most astoundingly beautiful thing he’d ever seen, Dean could feel the power of it resonating with his grace. He would do anything to keep this man from being *done* with him. Yes. This was worth dying for. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>The man in front of him nodded his understanding that he was not meant to make a sound, those eyes dipping to his vessel’s mouth for a fraction of a second, then lifting again as he pulled his hand away from that inexplicably appealing mouth, the same one that defied him at every opportunity, set in defiance even now. What he wouldn’t give to push his vessel’s tongue between those lips, make those eyes flare but not in fear, lift his body against that wall and - </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p><span>Dean’s subconscious mind struggled to wrap itself around the images and feelings Castiel’s stream of consciousness was projecting into his mind, tumbling</span> <span>and swirling confusion, heat and longing and images of his own face, glowing from within, Castiel’s uncertainty about what he wanted to </span><em><span>do</span></em><span> once he got Dean pinned against the wall innocently charming and yet jarring enough that Dean woke himself up, gasping, staring at the ceiling as the dream just… kept going, not terrifying like before, just alarmingly like eavesdropping now, feeling Castiel’s feelings and his own at the same time utterly surreal.</span></p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>He was flying, gently landing in a rustle of wings and grace to meet Dean in a motel bathroom. Dean was scrubbing blood out of his coat, they hadn’t seen each other in a while and Dean’s face was so welcome to his eyes, his soul so beautiful, he couldn’t help but stand too close, he knew it was too close, but his grace cried out to stand even closer, to press his human lips against Dean’s in welcome, to wrap his human arms around him in greeting, to warm his body with the vibration of his resonating grace and the heat in this vessel every time he stood in Dean’s presence.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dean felt the heat in his body rising, but unlike Castiel he knew exactly what it was, gasping at the sensations of his own body’s arousal intermingling with Castiel’s warm feelings towards the Dean on the ceiling, increasingly impossible to tell apart.  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>In the memory his lips spoke a greeting, but Dean was startled to see him, not pleased; angry, those gorgeous eyes flicking up and down over his face, not meeting his eyes, those soft lips moving. He wanted Castiel to step away from him.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dean couldn’t breathe, choking as he desperately tried to process the warring sensation of the heat in his own body superimposed with Castiel’s sorrow and resignation as he murmured an apology and obeyed the words about ‘personal space’ he watched his own mouth deliver, his face on the ceiling - or maybe on his own retinas - shrinking a little as Castiel stepped away from him in the memory, and he reached down to press a hand on his erection to ease the ache, shutting his eyes and sucking in a strangled breath at the way his view didn’t change. The dream was playing out on the inside of his eyelids as well, and now the scene was abruptly shifting.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Dean could see his own face, hopeless, the glow of his soul flickering weakly in Castiel’s vision, his hands slamming Dean’s back up against a wall, Dean could feel the rage and sorrow in Castiel’s entire being as he screamed “I REBELLED FOR THIS? I gave EVERYTHING for you, and this is what you give to me???” He could feel Castiel’s despair and an echo of his own hopelessness from that day, each blow Castiel struck *so much more gentle* than the force of his rage, Dean was astonished, observing Castiel’s restraint from within, he could kill this man with a single touch; but he tried desperately, instead, to evoke that defiance he’d come to admire so greatly.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Dean watched Castiel toss his limp body across the alley like a rag doll, to no avail, the flickering glow inside dimming with each blow instead of fighting back, Castiel’s rage snuffing out into despair as Dean begged for death, and he felt his clenched fist uncurl, watched himself reach out two fingers to offer, instead, the small comfort of unconsciousness, hoisting Dean’s limp and battered body over his shoulders to take flight, doomed, now, to die beside this broken shadow of the man with the once beautiful soul he had somehow let himself fall from grace for -</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dean ineffectually wiped at the burning in his eyes as he felt Castiel’s mind shy away from the agony of remembering his soul so dim, flicking through memories in rapid succession, every time his own face, his soul bright and shimmering, different places, different times, different clothes, every time they’d ever stared at one another, Castiel searching, Dean had no idea what for, disoriented by the longing associated with each new image of his face, staring back at Cas with the same look every time, Castiel never daring to hope but Dean was suddenly not sure if it was his longing or Castiel’s he was feeling, the feelings he’d never admitted to himself so brazenly naked in Castiel’s memories as his mind searched for -</span>
  <em>
    <span> ahhh.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>He was running, not literally but running all the same, Dean would know that feeling anywhere, the fear mixed with so much guilt Dean groaned out loud, the weight of it pressing him into his bed as he felt himself turn in a panic at the knock on the motel door, to hustle a heavily pregnant Kelly into the bathroom and cock the colt, stepping up to the door battle ready, the human heart hammering in his human vessel, to swing the door open, and -</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dean gasped at the flood of conflicting emotions, so strong he could barely breathe.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Dean at the door, his face furious, his soul so gloriously bright it almost hurt to look at directly, tinged with fury, Sam, his beautiful face and gentle soul mostly concern, the black fissures that used to mar his soul gold, now, since he undertook the trials, but Castiel’s soft affection at seeing Sam was completely eclipsed by the avalanche of emotion of seeing Dean, alarmingly human emotion he could not stop or control, guilt, so much guilt at taking Dean’s gun, at defying his wishes, but Dean could feel Castiel’s need to make him happy warring with his need to protect him from having to harm an innocent, Castiel would do this in Dean’s place, live with the pain of it, kill a thousand innocents in Dean’s place, a million, ALL the innocents if it kept this world safe so Dean could live without that pain, all of it wrapped up in a whirling inferno of *love*, so strong Dean’s knees would have buckled if he were standing up, tears leaping to his eyes at the force of Castiel’s terror he would *never* be forgiven, letting Dean throw his body across the room, letting Dean shove him against the wall, knowing he could smite this man’s body into its component atoms with a thought but knowing in the same moment he would die first, if Dean wished it.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dean could barely contain the raw power of Castiel’s emotion, the indescribable feeling of controlling his millennia old warrior’s instinct to protect himself overwhelming, yet overtaken, suddenly, by something else.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Heat, raw, and powerful, inappropriate, he knew it, not the time - not that he entertained the slightest hope there was ever going to be a time - but this was definitely the worst of all such possible times, Dean’s forearm pressing against his chest, his face raw fury, his voice husky as he demanded, “What the hell you thinking, huh,” Castiel’s body responding with a wish, a wish his mind imagined into being as time slowed to this moment, Dean couldn’t be sure if time had really slowed in the memory until the memory parted ways from anything at all he remembered being there for, gasping as his back arched up into his fresh sheets, losing himself inside Castiel’s fantasy.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Dean’s hands sliding up his throat, thumbs pressing into his trachea, Dean’s hips slamming him into the wall. They were alone now, still in the motel room, as Castiel watched Dean let the fury take him, his soul so bright Castiel shut his eyes against the blinding light of it but he could still feel it, and Dean hissed, “Look at me,” Castiel’s eyes flying open again, Dean’s face inches from his and closing, Dean’s breath hot across his lips as Castiel gave in to the feelings tumbling through his consciousness, feelings he knew Dean did not share but in this fantasy he let Dean feel the same way he did, let his desire take him, pretended it was always there but Dean just refused to feel it and now he was letting himself, the heat of his body crashing against Castiel’s hotter than the flames of their first meeting, his soul so bright when Dean shoved his tongue into Castiel’s mouth, snarling, that Castiel’s grace gave way before him, eagerly yielding, pulsing and resonating, Dean’s very touch ecstasy, Castiel’s mouth infinitely hungry, his body pliant and willing, Castiel’s mind unsure what should happen next, a gray void around the human memories his mind refused to revisit, but Dean’s mind eagerly pushed to fill in the blanks, the image on the ceiling flickering, changing, and suddenly he was looking through his own eyes, his tongue in Castiel’s mouth, his body shoving Castiel against the wall.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Dean gasped into Castiel’s mouth, releasing his grip around Castiel’s throat to twist fingers in his hair and kiss and kiss and kiss him, no rage now, Dean’s mind replacing it with raw passion, Castiel melting under his onslaught, Dean groaning and reaching for Castiel’s belt, Castiel’s surprised little gasp as his trousers hit the floor astonishingly arousing, stepping out of them obediently and winking the rest his clothes out of existence as Dean’s fingers tore at his own belt and zipper, Castiel’s bare flesh infinitely solid, yet somehow weightless as Dean lifted him by the thighs, hoisted him against the wall.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Castiel’s thighs instinctually wrapped around Dean’s waist as Dean shoved his tongue into Castiel’s mouth and reached down to align their bodies, assuming an angel could figure this part out without such plebeian constraints as lubrication, his first thrust throwing sparks across both their vision as his mind supplied the visceral sexual pleasure and Castiel’s mind latched onto his suggestion, twisting it, changing it, Dean’s soul and Castiel’s grace whirling and twisting together, a tornado made of flames; a roaring crescendo of pleasure and raw emotion.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Castiel cried out, eagerly laying his entire being bare, and Dean roughly took what was offered, thrusting and groaning and snarling his pleasure into Castiel’s body, his vision double, now, Castiel’s face in front of him but his own face, too, glowing from within. Castiel’s mind extrapolated from the human pleasure Dean’s mind suggested as a natural consequence of their bodies pushing together like this, Dean could feel him tasting it, changing it, adding to it, and Castiel’s wings were lunging open, spreading wide above them, his back arching as his wings shoved them both away from the wall and slightly off the ground, smashing furniture, knocking a lamp over, a chair, but neither of them paid any attention, Castiel writhing and grinding above Dean, transfixed, below him, the room fading around them as they rose upwards into the night sky, the cosmos glittering all around them in the darkness, Castiel’s grace growing brighter and brighter in his vision until Dean shut his eyes from the blinding vision but he could still see it, Castiel’s true face the most gorgeous thing Dean had ever seen in his life as Castiel’s mind entwined the delicious tension Dean suggested with the sheer, indescribable *relief* of giving himself to Dean, offering the way he felt as a gift, for Dean to taste.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Dean felt it all, shimmering and beautiful, completely lost, no idea now what was his and what was Castiel’s anymore, and in his mind he wept, pleading a question, trembling with the effort, and Castiel nodded and now Dean was gasping, bereft of Castiel’s emotion and the embrace of his body, Castiel still gleaming above him, still bearing him aloft into the night sky, resplendent, frozen, waiting above him in an infinity of stars.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Dean shut his eyes and it was dark inside his eyelids now. He examined the secret feelings hidden in his chest, easy here in this sky full of stars, because when he looked down at his body his chest was a safe, his hand a key. He reached down and unlocked the door, let the feelings spill out, just as raw and powerful as Castiel’s had been, his *love* for the angel above him endless, pouring from the open door of his chest in an infinite stream of glittering light, filling the sky, tears streaming down his face as he opened his eyes, pouring his entire consciousness into a single, waking prayer to the angel waiting for him, soaring above him on his ceiling.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Cas, I need you.</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The vision abruptly went black, the loss of it intensely painful. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dean shut his eyes, opened them again, but he was utterly alone, naked on his back in the dark. He pulled his sheet self-consciously over his erection, waiting, but there was only silence. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Cas, *please*, I need to talk to you. I’m in my room, please, can you come here?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dean waited, the arousal in his body fading as the fear took him, and he reached for his robe with his heart in his throat, slipped down the hall, knocked on Castiel's door, but there was no answer. He pushed the door open with dread pooling in his stomach, to find the lamp smashed, the chair knocked over, and Castiel nowhere to be seen. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dean shut his eyes and searched, his entire consciousness reaching out for Castiel the way he’d begged his one question, the connection still there at the edges of his consciousness, but Castiel wasn’t answering. Dean felt a flash of anguish, reached out towards it as hard as he could, sensing misery, darkness, and the unmistakable smell of leather upholstery.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dean stepped up beside his Baby, safely sequestered in the bunker’s garage, knocked gently on her window.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Castiel startled, curled up in a ball in her back seat, wearing his trench coat but bare feet, his shoulders shaking. He did not turn his head, his voice low and miserable, muffled through the glass.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Please go away. I don’t want to talk right now.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dean’s stomach fell through the floor as he turned away, tears in his eyes again, before his brain kicked up a desperate question, a beacon of desperate hope as he turned back to the car to lean his head against her window and talk through it, his stomach in knots.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Cas, I know you were dreaming about me.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>What?” </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Castiel turned to look at him, the tears rolling down his beautiful face stabbing Dean in the chest, and Dean dared to open the car door, soft jade meeting flooded sapphire, slowly nodding that it was true.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know how you’ve been doing it, but you’ve been sharing your memories with, uh, me and Sam. Dreams? Have you been sleeping?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Castiel’s eyes flared wide in horror, and Dean rushed to soothe, “Only the ones </span>
  <em>
    <span>about </span>
  </em>
  <span>us! We talked about it!</span>
  <em>
    <span>” </span>
  </em>
  <span>watching Castiel’s mind catch up, his mouth fall open as he stared at Dean’s face, anguish giving way to desperate, almost frantic, </span>
  <em>
    <span>hope</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’ve been... sampling substances from the apothecary.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Castiel’s voice was rough with tears, and Dean stared at him, gears turning.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“African dream root, maybe?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Yes. </span>
  </em>
  <span>But I wasn’t asleep, Dean, I was awake. Daydreaming, I guess. How much did you… see?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dean watched the fear and embarrassment and tiny flicker of hope fight for dominance over Castiel’s face and he leaned forward until his face was inches from Castiel’s, until he could almost taste his breath, staring into his eyes as he whispered, “I didn’t just see it. I </span>
  <em>
    <span>felt it, Cas. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Why didn’t you tell me how you feel about me?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Castiel just stared, his voice husky and cracking.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I didn’t want my feelings to affect our friendship. It wouldn’t be fair to burden you with my feelings when you don’t feel the same way.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Castiel’s face went blank as Dean leaned in even closer, his body halfway in the back seat now, his lips almost touching Castiel’s mouth as he slid into the seat beside Cas and pulled the door shut, whispered, “But, I </span>
  <em>
    <span>do</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Cas</span>
  <em>
    <span>.</span>
  </em>
  <span> I </span>
  <em>
    <span>showed</span>
  </em>
  <span> you how I feel. In your dream.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Castiel’s eyes flared impossibly wide, his breath rasping over his tongue.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>What are you talking about???</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Castiel’s hands trembled under Dean’s hands as Dean reached for him, strong hands grasping both of his, Dean’s soul as bright as he’d ever seen it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I saw myself through your eyes, Cas, I felt everything you felt, until, uh, you wanted me to kiss you.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dean’s glance flicked down to Castiel’s mouth, then back up to his eyes, his voice so husky he could barely get the words out.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“In the motel room with Kelly, I mean. When, uh, dream me kissed you, I wanted to be there so bad and suddenly I wasn't looking through your eyes anymore, I was *me*. Except I could still see how you see.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What do you mean?”  Castiel’s voice was a whisper, all of this still a dream, maybe, an inception, like that movie Dean had made him watch -</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I could see my - my </span>
  <em>
    <span>soul</span>
  </em>
  <span> the way you see it. And I could see your grace. And feel your - your - how you wanted dream me to feel about you. I, uh, I kissed you, and uh, did the other stuff with you, but then when you showed me how you feel I couldn’t tell what was me and what was you anymore, so I asked you to hold back -”</span>
</p><p> </p><p><span>“</span><em><span>Yes, </span></em><span>so you could feel if you </span><em><span>love me back.</span></em><span> That was a </span><em><span>dream, </span></em><span>Dean, the best one I’ve ever had. It hurt so much to wake from it when I heard your prayer I will grieve its loss forever. </span><em><span>You</span></em><span> don’t feel like I feel - </span><em><span>you</span></em><span> would never do</span> <span>those things - this must be a dream, too, then. This is - this is a </span><em><span>nightmare.</span></em><span>”</span></p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Castiel was drawing back, shrinking away from Dean, fresh tears rolling down his cheeks, and Dean shook his head, sitting up to untie his robe and pull his arms out of it, awkwardly keeping it tucked around his waist, the action startling Castiel enough that he stopped crying.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dean leaned in, offering Cas his left shoulder, still gleaming with sweat from the heat they’d shared before.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Remember, this is where you -”</span>
</p><p>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>As if I could ever forget,” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Castiel whispered, his trembling hand reaching out to grip the place he had seared his handprint into Dean’s flesh, Dean’s breath hissing out as Castiel’s hand connected with the memory of that touch. Castiel stared at him, flames dancing in his eyes, flames rising all around them.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I saw it,” Dean whispered, “Three nights ago. Your hand was on fire. Your wings were burning.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Yes,</span>
  </em>
  <span>” Castiel breathed, his hand still on Dean’s shoulder, the flames around them winking out, replaced, now, with the night sky all around them, superimposed over Baby’s upholstery, Castiel’s eyes sparkling with stars.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“And when we were here?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>All me.</span>
  </em>
  <span>”  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dean’s eyes were reflecting stars, his mouth falling open in awe.  “How are you doing this, Cas?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know. I could always visit your dreams, Dean, I just didn’t know you could visit mine.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“The African dream root lets you share other people’s dreams. I mean, for humans, who </span>
  <em>
    <span>knows</span>
  </em>
  <span> how it works on you. But Cas, you don’t sleep; how can you dream?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What are dreams, but the wishes of an idle mind? How did you enter my dream? You didn’t have any dream root.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We don’t both need to have. You just need to have, uh, eaten some part of my body?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dean’s grin was sheepish, and Castiel threw his head back and laughed, his mirth a pure mountain stream of gentle chuckles, tumbling over white pebbles.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I have not eaten any part of you, you have my word. I am bound to you, Dean. In the pit, when my hand touched you here.” His hand caressed Dean’s shoulder, his fingers tracing the scar Dean could still feel, even though it wasn’t there anymore.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>”We were bound by the flames. Did it not occur to you to wonder why your burn was not more painful when it was fresh?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dean tore his eyes from Castiel’s mouth to search his eyes, confused.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I mean, it ached a little, but yeah, I hadn’t even noticed it until I was looking for hellhound damage in the gas station mirror… why didn’t it hurt more?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It was my celestial intent, Dean, seared into your flesh by the fires of hell.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Castiel’s fingers traced over the invisible scar again, lingering.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We were not friends when we left the pit, and I was too weakened to heal you before we were parted. I vowed never to touch you again without your consent, a vow I have broken over and over, it would seem, but when the time came that I healed your scar, I could heal only the raised flesh. I could not separate the energy we shared without damaging you; I could no longer tell what was yours and what was mine.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I know exactly what you mean.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Castiel’s face fell, his levity gone, his hand wrapping around Dean’s shoulder, gripping him so hard it hurt.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“This... is real. You saw everything I have kept hidden, then, and you shared the most intimate of my fantasies. When did you know you were in my dream?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dean’s face fell, his eyes widening in horror.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I woke up after the beautiful room. I - </span>
  <em>
    <span>Oh fuck Cas I’m so sorry, </span>
  </em>
  <span>I knew the whole time, and I just - I just... took his place - </span>
  <em>
    <span>fuck - can you ever forgive me - “</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Castiel wouldn’t meet Dean’s eyes, his eyes glued instead to his hand on Dean’s shoulder.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I have no footing to judge your trespass, Dean. I stole your likeness without your permission, to imagine a happiness I can never know. It is one thing to relive a memory, quite another to fantasize about a friend. You merely participated in the sin I began.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Castiel’s voice was flat, resigned, and he abruptly released Dean’s shoulder, the loss of his touch leaving Dean reeling.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So that was you, in the heavens. And yet, once you asked me to withdraw, to give you the space to explore your own feelings, </span>
  <em>
    <span>you didn’t let me finish the dream.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Share the dream again, Cas,” Dean begged. “Take us back to the sky place, I needed you to know I was real before I answered you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Castiel’s voice shook.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I can’t.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You just had fire, and stars -”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Castiel’s wrecked gaze finally lifted to Dean’s face, his eyes swimming with tears. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It was joy that unfurled my wings, Dean, to lift my spirit to the heavens, such joy as I have never known before and shall never know again.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Castiel abruptly turned his back on Dean, wrapping his arms around his body, his shoulders shaking. His voice was barely audible, even in Baby’s closed cabin, and Dean’s heart shattered in his chest at the sorrow in his words.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I will leave in the morning, so I can say my farewells to Sam. Don't worry, I won't break my word, I'll go somewhere far away from all humans. The bottom of the ocean, maybe.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Cas - “</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Go. Away. Let me grieve in peace.</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Cas, </span>
  <em>
    <span>please</span>
  </em>
  <span> - “</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Castiel either couldn’t or wouldn’t hear him, no reaction at all to Dean’s pleading. Dean gripped Castiel roughly by the shoulders to try to force his attention, cradling his face in both hands, leaning down to press his lips against Castiel’s slack mouth, shoving his tongue past Castiel’s unresisting lips, but Castiel’s body was limp in Dean’s hands, catatonic, and Dean cradled his body in his arms and shut his eyes, while his mind reached into the darkness between them, searing pain in his temples from the effort, desperately searching for the place Castiel had made, the place where he could open his chest like a door. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There was pain and sorrow ahead, and Dean followed it, shoving his way through Castiel’s resistance until he could see Castiel on the insides of his eyelids, alone, curled up in a ball in the car, weeping and rocking, even though Dean could still feel their bodies touching, and Dean cried out, in the car and in Castiel’s mind.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Cas, </span>
  <em>
    <span>look at me.” </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dean’s command was a whip crack, the exact cadence of the Dean in Castiel’s dream, and Castiel obeyed instantly, his eyes wider in the dream than physically possible, the anguish on his face </span>
  <em>
    <span>killing </span>
  </em>
  <span>Dean as he reached his key hand to the lock on his chest, turned the key as fast as he could, threw his chest open, and let his feelings burst out.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>The stars filled Baby’s cabin, exploding out of Dean’s chest, his love for Castiel raw and powerful and infinite, pouring from him in an endless torrent as Castiel’s eyes flared wide in wonder and his mind reached out, tentatively, to taste Dean’s offering, to cry out in disbelief, to taste it again, and suddenly Castiel’s consciousness came flooding back to him, both of them in the car again, Castiel’s eyes spilling over as his entire being wept with relief and joy, reaching out to him, their mouth crashing together, Dean’s robe on the floor, Castiel’s trench coat and suit and tie and shirt and trousers disappearing one after the other under Dean’s frantic hands as Castiel broke the kiss to climb into Dean’s lap, his earthly body fading in and out of Dean’s vision as his true face blazed inside it, leaning down to accept Dean’s fierce tongue and sink down onto his cock in the same motion, the feeling completely different in person, more visceral, more pleasurable, more *everything*, Castiel’s garbled cry and Dean’s groan of pleasure mingling in their mouths with the heat of their breath and then Dean gripped Castiel by the waist, lifted him up, *slammed* him down.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Castiel *screamed*, his wings crashing against the roof of the car, his back arching involuntarily skywards as Dean’s fingers left his waist to reach for his wings, awestruck reverence on Dean’s face, the light of his soul sparking from his fingertips as ecstasy, Castiel moaning as Dean sank his fingers into exquisite, velvet black feathers, marvelling at how they weren’t black at all, but the absence of light, lighting crackling from their depths and sparking across his fingertips as he stroked his hands down fistfuls of feathers, Castiel moaning and writhing above him, his head thrown back, the column of his neck gleaming, his offer older than language, Dean’s answer just as ancient, a snarl as his lips and tongue and teeth met Castiel’s throat, and a violent thrust of his hips. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Castiel met Dean’s mouth with such force Dean’s teeth broke skin. He tasted copper and the tang of stars, Castiel’s grace dripping from his lips, the savage tasting the divine, and when Dean gripped handfuls of feathers in his fists, squeezing as he *slammed* Castiel down to meet his claiming thrust, Castiel *roared*, his head thrown back, his wings thrashing and throwing sparks under Dean’s hands and suddenly they were airborne, already a thousand feet in the air, ten thousand, above the clouds and in the heavens, the night black around them except for the stars and the lightning crackling in Castiel’s wings, the heat of Castiel’s body burning Dean alive even here in the frozen reaches of space, Castiel rising and falling in his lap amongst the stars, mouths and bodies and grace and soul crashing together in fierce joy and need as the *love* poured out of Dean’s chest and Castiel’s love danced with it, cherished it, emblazoned their names in glittering sparks across the sky, in every language Castiel knew, in every language that ever was.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Dean wailed as his human body reached its limits, the tension surging in his body intimately familiar, yet completely new at the same time, Castiel’s mind tasting his pleasure, coaxing him higher, his fingernails clawing into Dean’s back, through his shoulder blades, and into Dean’s soul, flaring white hot as Castiel’s grace flowed into him and through him, mortal soul and divine grace resonating as one, ringing out a perfect, excruciatingly gorgeous chord, Dean howling, a shower of sparks raining across his vision as his back arched and his body crested, calling out Castiel’s name, Castiel’s wings a lightning storm as he obeyed Dean’s command, his climax an entire universe going supernova, this moment infinite yet far too brief at the same time so Castiel cheated, slowing time to keep them here, hovering in ecstasy, for minutes, days, eons, maybe, until Dean wept for mercy, his soul blazing but his mortal body collapsing into unconsciousness in Castiel’s arms as Castiel gently floated him back down to earth, to cradle him to his chest in the safety of Baby’s back seat, in the safety of wings made of lightning and grace, curved inward, now, around this righteous man he loved more than life itself, and who, somehow, beyond all realm of possibility, had claimed him as his own.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>***</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Sam found them in the morning, their bodies entwined in Baby’s back seat, Dean’s sleeping face still cradled on Castiel’s chest, and he smiled at Castiel, holding up the cup of coffee in his hand, for Castiel to smile back and lift his lips to Dean’s ear to nibble him awake, shaking his head gently at Sam when Dean refused to be disturbed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dean and Castiel found Sam in the library several hours later, both of them freshly showered, a mug of reheated coffee in Dean’s hand.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Congratulations, guys.”  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sam’s smile was genuine, and Dean sat down at the table across from him, grinning sheepishly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, thanks. I guess quarantine is looking up for us - “</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Dean!</span>
  </em>
  <span>”  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Sorry not sorry, Cas, but we are </span>
  <em>
    <span>definitely </span>
  </em>
  <span>doing that again. And </span>
  <em>
    <span>everything else.</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sam smirked into his hand as Castiel tried to glare at Dean and failed, his eyes soft, Dean beaming up at him in smug delight.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Anyways,” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Dean continued, as if no TMI whatsoever had just happened, “Cas is moving into my bedroom, and that sharing his memories with us thing was because he’s been snitching African dream root. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Recreationally.</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“He’s been </span>
  <em>
    <span>what?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“And hexed ginseng, and those Tibetan mushrooms,” Castiel added mildly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Wait,” Sam said slowly, his nose wrinkling up in slight disgust at Dean, “What did he eat of… mine?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ha!” Dean exclaimed. “He says he and I are bound from the pit, Sam, it was nothing like that. For me.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Two Winchesters turned to look at Castiel curiously, and Castiel shrugged.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Where </span>
  <em>
    <span>haven’t </span>
  </em>
  <span>I pulled long hair out of this vessel, Sam, would be the better question. I must have swallowed some.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dean’s laughter was so pure Sam couldn’t even hate him a little bit, harrumphing theatrically, and flat out refusing to let anyone near him with clippers, no, not even for the promise of pie, cookies, </span>
  <em>
    <span>or </span>
  </em>
  <span>the big guns, Dean grimacing as he offered, </span>
  <em>
    <span>vegan lasagna.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Castiel just beamed at his family, silently glowing; stars glittering in his eyes.</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>***</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
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